A Diamond in My Pocket

  * * *

  I wake up coughing. My chest hurts, and my head and gut hurt too. Why do I hurt so much? I have been rolled on my side to allow water to escape my mouth. I wipe my lips with the sleeve of my jacket and become aware of everyone standing around me. How embarrassing. I want to die—maybe I have. I sit up and rub my chest.

  “Are you okay?” Chris asks, out of breath and coughing. He sits next to me with his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He’s dripping wet, but so am I.

  “I think so.”

  Justin lights into me. “Why in the hell did you go running into the river?”

  “I didn’t . . . did I?” I can’t remember.

  “You did,” Chris says, then coughs violently. From the sound of it, he almost drowned too.

  “Why would I run into the river?”

  Beth said, “I think you had a vision. You stood and started yelling something about losing your powers and took off across the water. You stopped and sunk like a rock. Good thing Chris is such an excellent swimmer and knows mouth-to-mouth or you’d be dead.”

  I look over at Chris, who glances at me sideways. “Thanks.”

  He nods.

  Kayla reaches for my zipper. “Let’s get you out of your jacket so it can dry.”

  My hand quickly grazes my pocket to make sure the diamond is still inside. It is. I grab her wrist and make her let go. “I’ll keep it on, thanks. I’ll dry as I run.”

  Justin points to Chris. “He’s in no condition to run now. He can hardly breathe.”

  I place my hand on Chris’s back and become aware of the water in his lungs—not good. His lips have a blue tinge to them. He’s out of the water, but he seems to be drowning.

  With my hand on his back, I warm the excessive moisture with my mind, pulling and siphoning it, then I stop. “Is this nature’s will?” I ask, trying not to sound like a know-it-all. I certainly am not trying to make a point. I just don’t want to be going against nature if this is what nature intends.

  “Please, help me,” he struggles to say.

  His terrified plea touches something deep inside me. Perhaps it’s the fact he’s just saved my life and I feel I need to repay the debt, even if it is against nature. I continue with my ministrations, easing the water out of his lungs, allowing oxygen into his blood. I lay him back on the ground and straddle his waist, being careful not to put my weight on him. With both of my hands, I instinctively massage his chest and lungs, sliding my hands up his chest to his neck. I watch the moisture vapor leave his body through his mouth.

  He reaches up and grasps my wrists, not trying to stop me, but to be a part of what I’m doing to him. I continue to massage his lungs up and out. I think about what it must have been like for him to watch me run out onto the river and sink.

  I enter his memories and see myself convulsing. I look absolutely scary, even to myself. In Chris’s mind, he understands what’s happening to me and that I need to be protected from harming myself. He tries to rein my body under control by pinning me to the ground with his own body. I throw him off with inhuman strength and jump up. “Will I lose my powers?” I yell, and then I run out into the middle of the river and sink.

  Chris is right behind me, trying to catch up. The moment I go under he dives into the water, panic-stricken. The swift current has swept my body away, but he doesn’t give up. He swims until he finds me, which takes longer than his held air allows. He wraps his arms under my arms, then struggles to swim to the surface. The others wait at the river’s edge and help pull me up the riverbank.

  At the sight of my unresponsive body, adrenaline shoots through Chris’s body, giving him a second wind of energy. Out of desperation, he slaps my cheek to try to wake me. When that fails, he checks for a pulse, then gives me mouth-to-mouth with the little air he can spare. He shakes my shoulders as anguish floods his entire being. He couldn’t feel worse if I’d died. At that moment, it appears to him I have. He uses both palms and presses on my chest. He does this repeatedly as tears of pain run down his face. When he gives me several more mouthfuls of air, he does so lovingly. He can barely see through his tears.

  I start to cough, and everyone standing by gasps with relief. Hope begins to build as he rolls me over on my side and shrinks away from me, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them as complete exhaustion consumes him. His adrenaline rush ends, and the water in his lungs is now extinguishing his life.

  That is, until I touch his back.

  I sense him, presently, and his affection for me. He opens his eyes, still holding my wrists as I massage his chest. His lungs are back to normal, but his heart rate continues to increase.

  “Are you all right, Chris?”

  “I think you’ve fixed me, so you can get off me now.”

  “Oh, right.” I quickly moved off his stomach, and he sits up just as fast.

  My mind keeps replaying the images from his head. I ask, “Did we go against nature?”

  He doesn’t answer, nor does he turn to look at me.

  I wonder why he let me into his mind? Why were his defenses down? Did he want me to understand his true feelings? The silence between us is deafening. The group has picked up on the tension because they don’t hesitate to leave when Lizbeth ushers everyone away.

  “I had a vision,” I say.

  “I figured as much. I’ve heard of visionaries doing crazy things, even deadly things, in the course of a vision. I tried to hold you down, but you got away.”

  “It wasn’t exactly a vision, but more like an out-of-body experience. I spoke with a witch.”

  His head swiftly turns in my direction. “A witch? You’re dealing with a witch? Is this why you have multiple powers?”

  My happy feeling gone, I stand and brush the grass off my wet suit. “I didn’t say I was dealing with a witch. I said I spoke with one in my vision.”

  His eyes narrow and his voice is cold. “Yes, but you yelled to the wind, ‘Am I going to lose my powers?’ Were you talking to her? She could be watching us right now.” The strictness in his voice tells me this is serious.

  “I guess so. It’s kind of hazy now. I’ll have to think about it and try to recall the whole conversation.”

  He gets up and says over his shoulder as he briskly walks up the hillside, “We need to get moving so we’re not captured like the other team. I’ll get the others.”

  I am flabbergasted. He’s left me so abruptly. How can his emotions change like that? I witnessed his innermost feelings, his indescribable love for me, his desperation to save me, and his gratitude. Yet, one mention of talking with a witch in a vision and he’s running the other way. I remember he freaked out when I confronted Justin about his dealings with a witch, too. I conclude it is unwise to mention my encounters with Maetha, even if it is only in a vision.

  My own body still hurts. Why? Can’t I heal myself? Apparently not.

  The clan comes down the hill, and I prepare to run with Chris, but he takes off without me. Justin stares at me with a slack jaw for a moment, then he takes my hand and we start running, following Chris and the others.

  As our group treks north through Idaho, I think about Chris giving me mouth-to-mouth, how he held my wrists while I healed him, the immense feelings of love he had for me . . . and then how he looked at me like I carried the bubonic plague. A look of complete revulsion. My eyes water, sending tears straight back into my hair.

  After two more hours of hard running through thick forests, we approach a town called Coeur d’Alene, situated on the north end of a large lake. We stop at the water’s edge to rest while Chris and Justin pour over the map. As dusk draws near, I listen to them argue over the risk of staying in a large town versus searching for a more remote spot. They finally decide to stay the night in Coeur d’Alene at two motels near each other and Chris issues room assignments to the group without looking in my direction. I can’t believe it when I hear him order me to room with Justin’s group. I’m absolutely stunned. Chris
is completely distancing himself.

  Fine! Fine! All I can say is FINE! I’m not myself when I’m around him anyway. I can’t think straight. I keep having these visions, along with desires I’d rather not have. So if staying with Justin, who couldn’t hate me more, will help my situation, I welcome it.

  Once we get checked in, I discover I’ll be sharing a bed with Beth. No surprise there. I wonder if she’ll draw an imaginary line down the middle, indicating “her side.” Kayla and Jessica have the other bed. None of them dare talk to me, for fear of ticking Justin off. They only stare in awe. At least they aren’t asking me about their futures.

  Justin sits in the adjoining room, speaking in a low voice to the guys. I pick up on some of their conversation. “Visions . . . future . . . minds . . . hunts . . . must be a witch for Chris to turn away from her like that.”

  I lie back on the bed and close my eyes. The girls leave the room and join Justin. I place my hand over the diamond and feel its pulsating power under my palm. This is my true addiction, giving me capabilities beyond imagination, as well as attitude and a new sense of self. Right or wrong? I don’t know.

  Maetha advised me to follow my desires, to go with my gut, so I get up and walk out of the motel room, closing the door behind me. I move through the Shadow Demons who prowl beyond the edge of light, and make my way down the block to the motel occupied by Chris and the others.

  I focus on all my senses and listen at the windows for him. Why am I doing this? He rejected me. Yet I want to listen to his voice or look into his mind to find out why, hoping he regrets being angry and cold with me. I pray I’ll discover I misread his reaction on the riverbank. I can’t hear or see anything, though. I only detect his scent.

  Why is he so repulsed at the thought of me talking with a witch? He didn’t get upset when he found out Justin was consorting with a witch—the same witch, although neither Chris nor Justin know. But still? Why would he ditch me over that? More importantly, why am I so upset? It’s not like his vision of me will come true anyway.

  I walk back to my motel room in a weary state of mind, dragging my feet so much I trip on the uneven sidewalk. Two middle-aged men step out of the shadows. They stand about the same height. Both wear ragged clothes, and neither looks as if they’ve shaved in several days. One of the stale-beer-stinking men has ratty blond hair and the other has black. Their minds reveal they are not from around the area and are just passing through on their way to the west coast.

  “Careful miss, you’ll hurt yourself.” An evil grin spreads across the blond man’s face. He has a jagged scar creasing one cheek. Without delay, I gain access into his mind. What I view appalls me. How can anyone think such horrible thoughts?

  The black-haired man places his hand on my shoulder and says, “Young lady, are you lost?” A cigarette dangles from his lips and as he inhales, the orange glow of the tip illuminates his pock-marked face.

  To any passerby, these men might appear to be worried about my safety and are just trying to help, but as a Mind-Reader, I deduce I’m the only one concerned for my safety. These men reek with evil intentions.

  It’s odd, really, the point at which I’ve found myself. The sixteen-year-old Calli of two weeks ago would never have wandered the streets of an unknown town alone and after dark. I wouldn’t have spoken to two strange men, let alone have tried to fight them. Neither Chris nor my teammates can’t help me now. The Demons are thick, and there isn’t enough light. I’m on my own with two scary-looking men who mean to harm me.

  But I’m not the same girl anymore. I’ve changed and am no longer frightened of them. Instead I feel uneasy because I’ve never used my powers to hurt anyone. If they don’t leave me alone, they will be my first experiment.

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m not lost,” I say as if I walk the streets all the time. “I’m on my way back to my motel.” I point to the building at the end of the block.

  “Little late for a pretty young thing like you to be wanderin’ about,” Blondie says.

  “Yes, I suppose so. Good night.” I start to walk away, knowing I won’t get far.

  They both grab me from behind. Blondie wraps his arms around my chest, holding my arms down, and the other man seizes my ankles. I know they are going to try to abduct me, and with my heightened reflexes, yes, I could have avoided being caught, but I’m angry. I’ve been unjustly dumped today, and holy hell, these men are about to feel the wrath of a scorned woman—a scorned young woman with amazing powers, that is.

  I don’t struggle much. I don’t even scream. Instead I focus on the black-haired man who holds my feet. Obviously, I don’t want to be dropped by attacking the man holding my upper half, so I go after the foot man first. I scope his body with my mind and find he has an old knee injury. I irritate the tendons and he starts limping and grunting, yet the cigarette never slips from between his lips.

  “What’s wrong?” the blond one growls as they haul me toward the entrance of an alley.

  “My bad knee! I must have stepped in a hole.” The man drops my feet and falls in agony, his cigarette bouncing on the ground. He now holds his other knee, which I have just blown out with my mind. He lets fly a string of colorful swear-words.

  The other man still has me restrained, but not for long. I explore inside him and find a weakness: his heart. I say to him, “You shouldn’t be hauling me around with your bad heart, sir. You might get hurt.”

  “Shut up, kid!” he yells. He tightens his hold on me, but then lets go and clutches his chest, screaming, “Aaagh! What did you do to me?”

  I move away from him. “Well sir, I think you’re having a heart attack. You’d better sit down and take it easy. I’ll run for help.” I don’t wait for them to protest. I run like a regular human away from the men and straight to my motel room. I have to pound on the door to get the others to open up. I run in and call 911 for an ambulance, telling the dispatcher a man appears to be having a heart attack in the alley near this motel. When the time comes to report my name, I hang up.

  Chapter 9 - Protector